


I'll Spot for You

by DemonzDust



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Past Drug Use, danny pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7088092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonzDust/pseuds/DemonzDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny's thoughts on Jackson and their friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Spot for You

I cringe as I watch you put more weight onto the bar, you’re entire body drenched in sweat, you’re breath still ragged from the last set.

“Come on,” you say. “One more Dan, don’t bitch out on me.”

So I spot for you. Watch what you take more than you can handle.

It’s not enough. It never is.

No amount of progress is ever enough to slake your need to improve, your need to.  _ be more _ It’s like you don’t even know what you’re chasing after, or running from. You add more and more weight, you stay later and later.

You’ve never been enough for yourself.

Over the years I’ve watched what you put yourself through. The overworked muscles, the doctors visits, the time you almost completely blew out your knee, the times you’ve thrown out your shoulder. You’ve told me the warnings the doctors give you. The warnings you then proceed to ignore.

I keep waiting for your parents to step in. To say “that’s enough”. To make you slow down, make you stop, make you take care of yourself. 

But they never do. 

They let you put distance between them and you. They continue to let the distance grow. They treat you like you’re an adult, but you’re _ not  _ an adult. It’s like they don’t even see you spiraling out of control.

They do nothing, and I get to watch you, every day, killing yourself.

It isn’t just what you do to your body. It’s what I know you do to yourself inside. The things you tell yourself.

Sometimes I can’t stand to watch it, and I leave you in protest. _Someone_ needs to tell you to stop. That it hurts them to see you hurt yourself. But I make sure I’m there for you soon after.

Because I know you, and you’d never ask for help. Never say you’re sorry. Never say that you need me even though I know that you do. You say it all the time, in the way that you look at me. In the time you’re willing to spend just the two of us. In the very few moments when you confide in me things that you fear.

And you fear so much.

I’ll never forget the day that I found steroids in your bathroom. I couldn’t believe it, even though I could. You said you were plateauing, you’d been saying it for weeks. It was eating at you.

I was livid. I yelled at you. I told you that you were throwing your future career away. That you were _ insane _ . You were horrified that I found out. You told me that I couldn’t tell anyone, you lashed out at me. Told me how I didn’t understand. How I wasn’t like you. How I could never be as good as you.

A day later you texted me to say that you threw them out, that you weren’t going to take them anymore, that you’d find some other means. I knew you were telling the truth because even though you don’t always tell me everything you  _ never  _ lie to me. It’s just not how we are.

I knew that when you stopped taking them, you were doing it for me, but I really wish you had done it for yourself. Your health, your safety, your wellbeing, it means nothing to you.

But it means everything to me.

It’s not that I’m in love with you. It’s not like that. I’ve told you a thousand times that you’re not my type, and I’ve meant it every single time. Yeah, we all _get it_. You’re hot...but I still don’t want that from you. 

You like the idea that I’m attracted to you because it makes it easier for you to accept my affection. You can allow yourself to be loved for how you look, for the body you’ve worked so hard to perfect, but you can’t accept that anyone could possibly love you for who you are.

But I do. Like a brother.

I know that you  _ are  _ good enough. You’ve always been good enough.

You act like a prick to everyone but you’ve always been there for me. People can’t understand why we’re friends, but they’ve never seen what you’re like when it’s just us. They weren’t there that time in grade school when someone picked on me and you beat them bloody. They weren’t there when my grandmother died and you came over without invitation, beer and Xbox games in hand. They weren’t there after my first real breakup sophomore year when you got us fake IDs and wingmanned me at every club within driving distance.

You’ve always been there for me, and you’ve always been good enough.

I wish you knew that.

I feel that someday, eventually, you will know it. One day you'll wake up and realize that you're worth something, just you, the way you are. But until that day comes, I’ll keep on knowing it for you.

I’ll be here, spotting for you.

I’ll  _ always _ be here spotting for you.

  
Because that’s what brothers do, and I know you’d do the same for me. 


End file.
